What Was and Never Will Be
by AnberlinLove
Summary: What would happen to Castiel if Dean actually died this time? "I figured I'd take a cue from Dr. Sexy and show up at high emotion moments where you seem to be losing your mind and need me the most." Dean/Cas
1. Chapter 1

**So, here's a oneshot where I basically considered what would happen if Dean really did die. How would Cas take it? I will flirt with continueing this but I think its very strong as a oneshot. Please enjoy the read.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural.**

**Setting: Post-soul Sam. After 6th season?**

**Warnings: Brief sexual content.**

**What Was and Never Will Be**

Castiel looked out of a stained window, the sounds of rough sex coming through the thin walls of the motel. Cars raced down the streets of New York City, taxi cabs driving in erratic motions. His stubble itched his sensitive skin, Jimmy's sensitive skin, but he chose to ignore it.

It was day three of his independence from Heaven, and he had yet to hear a jingle from his brethren. He thanked his Father for this. Empty bottles of _his _favorite whiskey lay around his feet. _His _favorite pocket knife lay cradled in his hands, its metal shining in the streetlights from below. The smell of _him _surrounded him, dressed in _his _favorite black tee.

Who thought that after all of the demons and angels and horsemen and Lucifer and God and Michael that it'd be something so insignificant? Who thought that it'd be a bit of bone marrow? So small and untraceable. If he'd known, if Sam or Bobby had known, they would have taken him to a hospital instead of trying to set the bone together themselves. What a disgraceful way for a warrior to die. A bit of marrow from his left arm, making its way through his bloodstream, infiltrating his heart and stopping it for good. Who knew God wouldn't bring him right back? That Castiel didn't have the clearance to bring him back himself….

Too many chances, Death had told him as he'd come to take the Winchester personally. Too many escapes, it was just finally time. But why… Why so insignificant as a broken arm after a fight with a vampire? _Because Dean Winchester had several chances to die as a hero. He just never took them. _

Castiel let out a wretched sob, letting the pocket knife fall from his hands and clatter along with the whiskey bottles. The chair he sat it knocked over violently as he stood to kick the nightstand beside him. It toppled over noisily, sending the lamp and alarm clock on top of it flying into a neighboring wall, silencing the sex on the opposite side. He fell against the wall, steadying himself as he breathed deeply.

His charge. His human. His beautiful, flawed, unbearable Dean Winchester. Dead, for nothing.

And there wasn't a single thing he could do about it.

"Damn, I thought I warned 'em not to make you angry there, Sparky."

The angel jumped, looking up to find the object of his breakdown standing by the door. His dirty blonde hair spiked in its familiar way, his green eyes dancing with mirth and mischief.

"D-Dean…?" he walked shakily toward him.

"Cas," the other said simply, unfolding his arms.

Castiel took a minute to bask in that husky voice saying his name. It sounded exactly like the one haunting him since the minute Dean had died beside him.

"Are you alive?" Cas tried to steady his voice, never leaving the eyes of the man a few feet from him.

"Of course not," Dean chuckled, "Damn death is like the government. Always catch you cheating the system eventually. I've never liked Big Brother."

The words hit him like bricks, forcing the breath from his lungs, "I don't understand that reference, Dean."

A concerned look passed his face, "Woah there, buddy. You need to sit down."

Dean moved towards him, hands not quite touching the angel's shoulders as they guided him to the bed. Castiel collapsed onto it; almost choking again as he felt the chill radiating off of the apparition in front of him.

"I'm losing my mind," he whispered.

"Cas," a chuckle, "Let's be honest here, your mind is shaped by what you see around you. Let it believe I'm here for tonight, huh?"

"I don't exactly know how to take that."

The image of Dean before him flickered as it smiled brightly, "Take it in a good way."

"Are you really you?" hope filled his eyes, "Are you just a figment of my imagination? Am I losing my grace or are you really Dean?"

The bed dipped beside him just a bit as the apparition sat beside him, "Well, I'm sure that if this was your imagination then I would be able to touch you, so…no. I figured I'd take a cue from Dr. Sexy and show up at high emotion moments where you seem to be losing your mind and need me the most."

"Dean…" the angel tilted his head back in exasperation, "All these references that I just don't understand…even while you're dead!"

There was another deep chuckle, "Hey, are you wearing my shirt? Is that my pocket knife? Is that my whiskey?"

"Obviously, Dean."

"Well shucks Cas, I'm flattered. You're obsessing over me," he smiled widely, "Glad to see not much has changed."

"Why are you here?"

There was a short silence at Castiel's bite of a question, his blue eyes focusing on the carpet. There was no movement beside him, no fingers moving through hair, no hand moving over a face, no impatient fidgeting with rings… Silence and it depressed the shit out of him.

"I wanted to know if the rumors were true…" finally came a response.

Cas looked at his own hands, dry and cracked, "As you can see, they are. I have left Heaven for good."

Dean's ghost sighed thoughtfully and Castiel wished he could feel the touch of that breath against his skin.

"Have you fallen?"

"No."

"Then how?"

He smiled at the dead man next to him, "I simply left. I got permission to just leave."

"And Raphael?"

"He wins."

Dean stood as if angry, "How could you do that?"

Anger filled Castiel again and he stood as well, getting as close to Dean as possible, "How could you leave me here?"

A snarky noise emitted from Dean's throat, "Well, well, don't we sound like the scorned, lonely lover."

Castiel blushed deeply, looking away, "That's not how I meant it."

"Are you sure?"

"We were never lovers Dean."

Dean laughed deeply, "We might as well been."

There were many things Castiel had wanted to do on earth. Go to a movie. Check; Sam had taken him just a few days before jumping into the hole. Wash dishes. Check; Bobby gladly handed over the chore one night. Stay up all night, eating junk food and watching mindless TV shows with people you care about. Check; done shortly after Sam had regained his soul and Bobby decided they needed time off, including Cas. Kiss Dean Winchester…no check.

Well sure, he'd let his mouth run over the man's cold forehead minutes after they found him dead. More like minutes after he'd died because Cas had felt the moment his soul had slipped away. He caught Death touching the Winchester's cheek almost tenderly as he called the soul out of his body. Rage had filled him in that moment and he wished he had that sickle in his hand.

"I wanted a lot of things you know," Dean said softly, "Lots of things that I never got."

Castiel looked back up into the man's eyes but Dean was looking at the center of the angel's chest.

"I wanted a real sit down dinner on Christmas day for the first time in years. I wanted to watch The DaVinci Code with only Sammy just to hear his ongoing explanations so that I could call him a goddamn nerd. Such simple things."

The angel's big blue eyes never looked away, waiting for Dean to meet them. And he did.

"I wanted you."

Castiel's heart rose to his throat at the three words.

Dean moved just a bit closer, letting his not so corporeal hand barely run over Cas' cheek.

"I wanted to kiss your snobby little lips just once," a laugh escaped him, "Just to shut you up when you went on your holier than thou speeches."

Cas let a small chuckle out at this, urging Dean to continue.

"I wanted to help you dominate Heaven. Become the leader while Daddy was out. I wanted to give you something after you had given me everything."

Such human emotions threatened to spill out of the angel. His eyes were rimming with such a foreign thing. Tears.

"I wanted to have you as my own for one night," his face broke out into a sly grin, "Preferably in Sammy's motel bed."

That damn blush returned, "Dean…"

This ghost…this man walked backwards, dropping his hand and sniffled slightly, "Get on the bed."

He looked up in surprise, "What?"

"Get on the bed. On your back."

Castiel did as he was told, climbing on and laying flat on his back. He craned his neck to watch Dean's form move statically next to him. This sent a chill through his body as he realized just how wrong this was. Dean's soul should have passed on by now.

"Shh. Don't think, Cas. Just relax."

All it took was one look into those green orbs and he fell back onto the pillow.

"Unbutton 'em."

"Dean…"

"You heard me."

Cas sighed heavily and reached down to unbutton his black dress pants, watching Dean watch his hands. Dean licked his lips, leaving their fake image moist and kissable. He let out a small groan, causing their eyes to meet.

"I want to see your cock."

Cas seriously should have startled at those words but all he could do was let out a delicious whimper, taking his member out of his boxers. The heavy flesh twitched in delight as Dean let out a small breath of air that seemed to ghost (no pun intended) over it.

"At least I can scratch this off of my list," he murmured, hand twitching, "Cas. I want to touch you."

The angel stroked himself absentmindedly, "You can't."

His lower stomach coiled tight, filled with a heat he couldn't define. He wasn't innocent to sins of the flesh. Being close to Dean and not with Dean led him to do some things he wasn't really proud of. His mind flashed to Dean telling him about some curious thing Crowley had said to them. _'Oh my, the things I've heard.' _Which means he probably heard that time Cas had to leave the motel and sit in the Impala to well…relieve tension.

"I know I can't," he nearly barked, "Play along, Cas. It's like ghost sex."

"That makes me uncomfortable, Dean."

"Well it's the best I can do. Alright?"

"Alright," Cas met his eyes, doing a particular twist of his wrist on an upward stroke.

Dean followed the movement out of the corner of his eyes and bit his bottom lip, "Where'd you learn that?"

"From watching you."

"Now, that makes me uncomfortable."

"Dean, you have no shame."

He laughed heartily, "Hmm, you're right. That's kind of hot."

"Dean…"

"Yes?"

"I wish you could touch me too…"

Dean let a small smile fall over his lips. He lent in slowly, a hand over the angel's cock as he slanted his lips just a mere millimeter from Cas'.

"I know. I'll be back before you know it, Cas. I promise."

With that, a gush of air filled the room leaving Castiel alone.

**fin**

**So I hope everyone enjoyed. Please. Please. Please review. I would greatly appreciate it. Thank you so much for reading.**


	2. Chapter 2

**So I've decided on making this an actual story. Due to popular demand. =) This is a bit short but I promise next updates will be much longer. Enjoy!**

Chapter 2: To Want It All

The next time Dean wandered in was a little embarrassing for the angel. Castiel was bent over the sink, vomiting. Like a human. If Cas had ever wondered what it would be like, he regretted it. He ran the water from the sink, letting it wash the foul mix of solid and liquid down the drain.

"Well," came that well known husky voice, "Castiel, I expected more out of you. Pregnant?"

The angel, or former angel, hung his head with a sharp laugh. Slowly, he turned to face the source of the beautiful voice. He swiped his mouth with the back of his hand, trying his best to make sure that there was no vomit left over. Dean Winchester, or what was left of him anyway, stood in the bathroom doorway. His arms were crossed, eyes slightly worried despite his playful tone.

"Dean…" Cas smiled just a bit, "You caught me at a bad time."

"Yeah?" the ex-hunter walked towards him slowly, dipping his head to meet Cas' eyes, "How low is your angel mojo, Cas?"

A tightness spread in his chest, "I…"

"Don't deny it."

Cas looked up, swearing he could feel his nose brush Dean's, "It's been a few days Dean… There's barely anything left…"

Dean's eyes became dull and he backed away, "Why? Gabriel left… he didn't…"

"Lucifer fell but neither did he," a small smirk formed on his thin lips, "Perks of being an archangel. Me? I'm just another soldier in the garrison."

"Man, they really know how to screw over their most loyal, huh?"

Castiel walked forward until he was just a few inches from Dean, "You could say that… Tell me Dean.."

"What?"

Cas flirted with the idea of shutting his mouth now, afraid that Dean would flit away into the night and not return. Still, ever since Dean had showed up for the first time, nearly two weeks ago, he couldn't get the question off of his tongue.

"Why are you still here?" Cas could see something akin to hurt flicker in his eyes, "Not that I'm not grateful, I am, but why?"

"I can't tell you that."

The abruptness of Dean's answer would have made Castiel laugh on the inside but this time it just pissed him off. He glared at Dean angrily before walking through the man's non-corporeal body and into the motel room. Dean made an annoyed sound, turning quickly to follow him.

"Don't do that!" he barked, "It feels funny! And slightly kinky…"

Castiel didn't even warrant that a response, taking off his shirt roughly and tossing it onto the bed. Really, the man he had sworn to protect angered him more than anyone else. He honestly had the urge to resurrect him just to beat the living shit out of him.

"Cas!"

"Dean!" he yelled back mockingly, picking up a scotch bottle and throwing it at the apparition.

It went through Dean's stomach, crashing against the opposite wall, "Holy hell! What the fuck?"

This only seemed to piss off the ex-angel even more. He stalked menacingly towards Dean, and goddamn the Winchester would be trembling if he wasn't already dead.

"For your information, hell is not holy! Also I'd prefer it if you did not use crude language in my 'fucking' presence!" He ignored Dean's wide-eyed scoff and continued, "You know, you can't just die and then show up out of nowhere and expect me to be your boyfriend or whatever without giving me some 'damn' answers!"

Dean fought the smirk forming on his lips, "Well, what a potty mouth you've got there, Cas."

Castiel's glare intensified, reaching for a nearby object to throw through the man he loved once again.

"Hey! Hey!" Dean yelled, jumping back, "That _really _does _not _feel good!"

"Oh?" Cas questioned almost sarcastically, "And what does it feel like?"

An uncomfortable look passed over the ex-hunter's face, "Pokey, a little getting a physical done by a nosy nurse."

"Good!" Cas threw the lamp on his nightstand at Dean, watching with satisfaction as he made a completely dissatisfied face.

"You know what?" the ghost barked angrily, turning away, "I'm leaving!"

"No you are not!"

"Watch me!"

"Oh, I'm watching!"

There was a brief silence, Dean's eyes closed as he faced away from Cas. Castiel stared at him, anger coursing through his body. The anger slowly faded into confusion as Dean slowly turned to give him a questioning look.

"How'd you do that?" Dean asked softly.

Cas raised an eyebrow, "Do what?"

Dean stepped closer to him, "Keep me here…"

It was true, the moment he had tried to make his ghost mojo happen, he felt grounded. He couldn't force the feeling of weightlessness around him that usually sent his spiraling along, away from this place. Cas looked back at him, eyes just as confused. He stepped forward and reached out a hand, letting his fingers splay across Dean's chest.

"What the…" Dean breathed, looking down to see Cas' fingers lay on his chest, not slipping through.

"I can... touch you?" Cas' eyes marveled in pleasure, urging his fingers forward.

An empty feeling filled him when his fingers fell through.

"Cas," Dean wrapped his fingers loosely around his wrist, feeling the warmth from the other man, "You can't push too hard, I'll fade away."

"It's not fair," came the unexpected reply.

He met Dean's eyes, continuing, "It's not fair that I can touch you but I can't feel you. You're cold. It's like dipping my fingers in water."

"Sorry to disappoint," Dean whispered almost brokenly, "You're warm. Like a heater."

Dean walked forward, causing Castiel to back away, afraid of losing the small touch he had. The Winchester's mind was already focused on the bed behind his lover. Cas' knees hit the bed, sending him onto his back with Dean tumbling forward. He disappeared.

"Dean?" Cas pushed himself up, looking around worriedly, "Dean!"

"I'm right here," Dean chuckled from his place beside Cas, "That just wasn't the best idea."

Castiel just seemed to stare right through him, his finger rubbing a circle on Dean's palm. He relished the small touch, whether it be cold or warm. He even felt a whiff of Dean's aftershave somehow, letting the scent fill him. Dean was well aware of Cas' naked torso, taking in his barely defined chest.

"Cas…" he spoke calmly, "When we figure this out, you gotta let me have you."

The ex-angel startled, laughing quietly, "Demanding."

"And?"

"I miss it."

* * *

**Ahhhh you know what's coming soon, don't you? Please review!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Ahhhh I feel like such a horrible author! I'm so sorry for this long hiatus. I have too much going on but I'm currently in Spring Break so hopefully I'll be relaxed enough to get this out sooner. Thank you for being faithful readers. Enjoy!**

Chapter 3: Out of the Dark

"Take me to him."

Cas lifted his eyes to the dead man sitting on his bed, "What?"

"Take me to Sam."

There was a brief silence, as there always seemed to be between the two. Each one assessed the other, silently decided who was right and who had the floor. This time, Cas won due to Dean's eyes flitting to the floor between them. The fallen angel straightened his back, pausing to feel the empty weight of his long gone wings.

"Dean, I don't believe that's possible."

"Cas," the other man sighed, "I just…I want to try."

Castiel laughed emptily, the corners of his eyes wrinkling in a way that had Dean remembering his age. He stood causing his black cotton shirt he to fall even further past his hips. Dean traced every movement as the ex-angel paced the room; blue eyes flitting, fingers curling and uncurling in unruly dark hair. It was almost mesmerizing.

"What if…?" Cas paused, making sure he caught Dean's attention, "What if we try and I leave this place and we lose you?"

"Cas I doubt that would happen," Dean laughed, trying to put the man at ease, "I mean, it seems like whenever I leave here I fade somewhere until you call me back to you."

"I don't call you back to me," his eyebrows furrowed, mind already at work on finding the answer to this riddle.

"No, but your heart does," his eyes slid closed, "Woah, seriously gushy line right there."

"No, no, no," the dark haired man paced to a bag of his belongings, rifling through it, "No, you might be right."

Text upon worn and tattered paper kept flitting through his mind. Words and words on souls being linked after death. Death being the cause; not the fine print. If only he hadn't given half of his library to Dmitri before falling. He pulled clothes and trinkets out of his bag, throwing aside the wrong books with a lack of care. Dean's eyes followed the abandoned trench coat as it landed crumpled on the dirty carpet.

He smirked, "You haven't worn this in awhile."

Cas looked over with little to no care, "Yeah."

Dean sighed, lounging back on the bed, "I'm bored."

"Dean," Cas said tiredly, earning a 'Hmm?', "Shut up."

A small chuckle came from the bed, annoying Cas even further as he failed to find what he was looking for. He was sure it had something to do with Death causing a life to live on in another. A link to the heart that when applied would be untraceable, much like Dean's death had been. He sighed heavily and sat back on his behind, feet planted on the floor so that he could rest his weary head on his knees.

"Alright Cas…what is it?"

"Death."

Dean looked up in surprise, "What about him?"

Cas met his eyes, "I think he did this."

xXxXxXx

"Bobby!" Sam called as the slime covered demon they fought took a good swipe at the old man.

Thankfully, Bobby dodged with enough time to catch the filth off guard and cut its head off. It rolled on the muddy ground beneath them, hitting Sam's feet. Sam stared down in disgust before grabbing a match from his pocket to light.

"Well, that was easy," Bobby murmured gruffly, reaching into his pocket to take out a flask of whiskey.

The younger man watched this action with unease as he flicked the now burning match on the head of the demon. Bobby had been drinking even more than usual since Dean's death. His reaction time had slowed, he barely ate, and most nights Sam could tell he barely slept. He thought maybe the old man blamed himself for Dean getting hurt that night but he knew the truth. It was Castiel's.

"Yeah," Sam responded as he lit another match for the body, "We should head back to town. Who knows what other nasties are lurking in these woods?"

"Ah," he waved his hand, "We'll cut their heads off too."

Sam chuckled a bit, picking up his bag to head to the car. He could still remember every detail of that night. There was a vampire nest just outside of Tulsa that had been a bit too obvious with its snacking lately. Dean had laughed that it was their first easy gig in awhile, told Bobby to stay home. Of course Bobby disagreed, deciding that he might as well get some exercise. There was just one problem; they had underestimated how many vampires inhabited this nest. Dean still hadn't seemed too overwhelmed, taking everything in stride; slice, dodge, slice, kick, get punched, get kicked, slice.

It was when Bobby had been pinned down by one of the nastier sons of bitches, he got distracted. He picked up his machete, throwing it with enough skill for it to land in Bobby's hand. It took a minute for Bobby to get the upper hand and chop off his head. A minute and a half for the machete to land back in Dean's hand and for him to kill another. This is when it seemed to freeze for Sam as Castiel landed in a semi-bright light in the middle of the dirt covered room. Blood was visible on his trench coat as he clutched his middle. Dean had shouted his name worriedly, hurrying toward him. Castiel looked up at him, eyes glazed over. Sam could see Cas' eyes coming back into focus as a vampire got closer to Dean unnoticeably. Bobby had begun to sprint toward the vampire, knowing Dean didn't have enough time to fend it off. As soon as it took Dean's arm holding the machete and cracked it over its knee, time resumed for Sam.

In three minutes, Dean was laying on the ground gasping in pain. Fury seemed to emanate from Castiel as he let out a big push of his grace, killing every evil thing in the room. Later that night, back at Bobby's, Dean had refused to go to the hospital. He laughed that a broken bone was nothing compared to what he had suffered in the past. Just set it. Quit looking at me like that Sam. Cas, it's all right; you used up all that grace getting us out of there. Bobby, get me some whiskey for this shit.

They had covered him up to sleep. Closed the curtains, the door. Spoke in the living room softly as Castiel lounged to rekindle his grace. Suddenly it seemed like the angel had been electrocuted. He shook, jumped up and looked at the staircase unbelievingly. As he disappeared, Sam knew exactly where he went. He and Bobby rushed into the room shortly after Cas appeared there. Death had his hands on his brother. _Death was pulling his brother's soul from his limp body._

And if Castiel hadn't had appeared that night; it wouldn't have happened.

Later that night, Sam and Bobby sat awake in the living room. The TV volume was dull and low, the channel set on some old game show rerun. The Winchester sipped slowly from a cold bottle of beer, its condensation running down his long fingers. A knock sounded at the front door and he looked over at Bobby with a raised eyebrow.

The older man nodded and grabbed the shotgun that leant on his armchair, "I got it."

Sam smirked, "Don't shoot first."

"Yeah, yeah."

Bobby peeked through the curtain and stilled. He sighed deeply in a debate with himself before wrapping his fingers around the doorknob and pulling it open. The shotgun lay slumped against his leg, forgotten.

"Since when do you use doors, kid?" he asked as he looked past the man in front of him.

"It's a long story," came Castiel's equally rough voice.

"Come in."

* * *

**Again, thank you. Sorry if it was a little choppy, please tell me how you feel about the direction its taking!**


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: If I Die Young

"Why the fuck is he here?"

"Sam-"

"Don't fucking say a word to me!"

"Watch where you're throwing shit in my damn house, boy!"

"Sam, please."

Bobby caught the surviving Winchester as he launched himself at the fallen angel. Castiel didn't bother to flinch, staring straight at Sam with eyes that read uncaring. His scruff was unruly, hair messy as though he hadn't run a brush through it in some weeks. A few wisps fell across his eyes, the sides brushing the tips of his ears. And Sam could give a shit less if he looked like he hadn't slept since he had fallen.

"Get a hold of yourself!" Bobby barked angrily, pushing the younger man back until he stumbled over the sofa.

Sam huffed angrily, eyes never leaving Castiel, "You better have a good reason to be here."

Cas nodded at him slowly, looking at the floor, "I need to tell you both something. And you might not believe me."

"Well? Spit it out, boy," Bobby gritted after a short silence.

"It's about…" his eyes wavered to Sam and away, "Dean."

A bright anger seemed to burn in Sam as he surged forward, grabbing the ex-angel by the shoulders and pushing him towards the door, "Get out."

"Sam!" The older man threw his hands in the air helplessly.

Cas let himself be dragged limply onto the porch, taking a punch in the jaw almost as if he wanted it. He covered his eyes with a hand as he lay on his back. Sam trod past him angrily to kick over a lawn chair, sending it to crash into a stationary beat up Chevy. Bobby leant against the door, eyes closed and head tilted toward the heavens.

"I'm so sorry…" came a small whimper, "I… It was me. I know it was me. I killed him."

No sympathy filled Sam as he gazed at the fallen angel on the dirt covered porch. He couldn't bring himself to care that the man looked near death, that his former stature had been reduced to a sniveling mess. Cas pulled himself up to a sitting position, head cradled in his hands as he sobbed dryly.

"And if I could take it back, I would," he breathed as he looked up at Sam, "You have to believe me."

"I don't care."

"Harsh."

All three men snapped their heads towards the voice. Dean stood at the bottom of the porch steps, face drawn tight in anger. He seemed to float on the steps on his way to Castiel. He kneeled, eyes never leaving Sam's face as he ghosted a hand over Cas' cheek.

"Get up," he said softly, the look in his eyes as he gazed into Cas' said everything.

You're better than this.

"Dean…?" Sam stumbled forward a bit, eyes wide.

"Yep. Not in the flesh though."

Dean tried to keep his anger in check; the last thing he wanted was to become violent. Especially against his baby brother, even if he was being a grade A douche bag. Sam stared at him then at Castiel.

"This is what you came to tell me…" he muttered, not much like a question.

Castiel nodded anyway, leaning against a rafter to support his tired body. He could feel the energy radiating off of Dean and into him, almost as if Dean was sharing to keep him upright. Bobby stayed silent, eyes trained on Dean's apparition. He turned to go into the house, returning with a carton of salt.

"Bobby…" Dean fixed him with a glare.

"For precaution, boy."

Dean pursed his lips and tilted his head, hands up, "Fair enough. Missed you."

"Not as much as I've missed your smart ass mouth."

The older Winchester chuckled before settling his gaze back on his baby brother. Sam still stared at the weak Castiel whose own eyes were trained on the floor, red and puffy.

"No.." Sam whispered.

"Sam," Dean sighed.

"No," he said louder now, "I'm not going to let you do this."

Castiel's eyes raised to his, "Do what, Sam?"

"Sam, stop it," Dean pleaded.

"You can't kill him and think that if you bring him back half assed then everything is okay. It doesn't work like that," he moved closer to Cas now, finger pressed close to his chest, "You're reckless and selfish. You ruined my brother long before you killed him."

"Stop!" the deceased yelled angrily.

"I know how you felt about him, I know everything," he continued on, "But you couldn't have him. You know why Castiel? Because you're weak. And a dick."

"Sam, stop it or I will become corporeal and kick your fucking ass," Dean muttered dangerously.

Sam looked at him, "Why are you defending him? He got you killed Dean."

"It wasn't his fault," his eyes met pain filled brown ones, "I know how hard this has been for you Sammy. But you have to stop blaming him for something he couldn't control."

The younger Winchester seemed to scoff, eyes meeting Cas' before returning to his brother's, "You mean… he didn't tell you?"

Dean was taken back, "Didn't tell me…?"

Sam met Cas' eyes again, "Fucking pathetic."

Cas looked down in shame, eyelids slipping closed.

"Didn't tell me what, Cas?"

"Dean…" Cas looked back up at him, "Don't do this."

With that, Castiel headed down the stairs and back up the road.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**: Some explanations are better left unexplained

And that's the moral of the story. Still, Cas hadn't been able to resist Dean's constant prodding and pushing as they'd sat together on the dirty motel bed. Dean hadn't been able to resist the urge to sit catatonic as Cas had finished up.

"_Raphael offered me a choice. Heaven or you."_

"_And?"_

"_For the first time, I chose Heaven."_

"Dean," Cas choked on a sob, "Dean please say something."

"…_What were the terms?"_

"_If I would have relinquished the rebellion and kneeled before him in front of the heavenly Host, then he would give you immortality, make you untouchable to demons and angels alike."_

"_And if not?"_

"_He'd kill you."_

Dean looked away from the wall he was sure he'd been staring at for hours now, "I don't know what to say, Cas. What can I say?"

"That it wasn't my fault," the response was quick, pleading and it broke Dean's heart to hear, "That I made the right choice."

If Dean could take a deep breath, now would be the time he took it, "Cas. If you had chosen me, he would have probably kick started the apocalypse all over again. But I can't say I'm glad you chose Heaven over me. As selfish as that sounds. Family..." Again that urge to breath deep and settle his nerves, "Family comes first Cas. Family comes before anything. At least for me."

Cas sniffled, "But I did choose family Dean. My family."

The look that statement earned was nothing short of wounded, Dean moving to stand as far from Cas as his pull would allow, "I thought we were your family."

Realizing his mistake, Cas muttered a curse, looking anywhere but Dean, "You…you were my family…for a time but-"

"But what?" Dean's voice was rising steadily, the bottles littering the floor beginning to rattle in response to his anger, "But we were only fit to be your family when it was convenient for you? When you needed one? That's right, God brings you back, gives you a shiny new pair of wings and suddenly you're the messiah! Suddenly you're everything the desperate, pathetic, mindless automatons that you call siblings, need and want! You forget that they were all out for your blood and who was protecting you then, huh! Who helped you and needed you and wanted you around! It was us, Cas! We never had conditions, you didn't have to be God's favorite to be part of our family!"

"You have no idea what you're talking about, Dean, it wasn't like that. They had orders." Cas tried to rationalize, hurt turning into panic as he swallowed to keep the bile down.

"Orders," Dean scoffed, one of the bottles flying and smashing into the wall, "Well I remember a certain little angel, who said 'fuck you' to the ones giving those orders. He was brave, and had faith that God-"

"I had faith in you!" Cas shouted, looking up at Dean in his panicked frenzy.

"And yet you chose them."

The silence was deafening.

Cas' eyes were watery as they rose to meet Dean's, "I love you."

Dean's fist clenched, "Yeah? Well…I love who you used to be."

The searing, white hot pain that broke through his incorporeal body was unexpected. His shout of agony bounced off the walls. He fell to his knees, gasping as his fingers somehow found purchase in the dirty carpet as they dug in.

"Cas! Stop!" he begged, another wave, stronger this time, wracking through him.

The ex-angel stared blankly at him, something dark lying under the surface, "Why?"

"Please, stop!" his pleads fell on deaf ears.

"So you can use your venomous words against me again? Like I'm nothing to you? I remade you, from sinew and rotten, stinking flesh. I dragged your disgusting soul through layers of hell, all of which are made of pulsing, bleeding bodies. They grabbed at me, hoping for salvation but I took only you. I cradled only you. I didn't cringe as I mended the black dirty thing your soul was. No other angel would touch you. But me? I did more than touch you. I gave you bits of myself, weaved in my grace to wash out the filth inside of you. And this is how you repay me?"

Dean fell weakly onto his stomach, gazing at Cas' bare feet as the pain, not losing its intensity ran through him. His loud yells having been reduced to low whimpers. Cas stared at him unsympathetically, if not in joy.

"Oh dear," came an unmistakable austere voice, "I should have known this would happen."


End file.
